


How to Save a Life

by holmescott



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Also Minho is kind of all protective over Newt and stuff, Anyways..., Depression, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, I'm not even really sure what I'm doing, I've never been to a Psychiatric Hospital, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, Mental Disorders, Mental Health Issues, Not really actually sorry, Pyromania, Really bad interpretation of a Psychiatric Hospital, Right?, Unbeta'd, Various mental issues, We were in Pyromania, but yeah, by the way, possible trigger, sorry about that, sorry for that, yeah - Freeform, you know, you'll see as you read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmescott/pseuds/holmescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Newt's parents get him in a Psychiatric Hospital after his suicide attempt, where he befriends Minho and some other guys, before Thomas enters the ward too and becomes his roomie. They help each other in ways they would have never imagined.<br/>Yeah, shitty summary, but it's not as bad as it seems.<br/>Enjoy :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, bloodycrank-newt said:  
> newt being in a mental hospital because of depression and well its not nice because mental hospitals arent fun and then there is this new boy called thomas who came there because of nightmares about the maze and he thinks hes about to lose his mind and doesnt know if its just a nightmare or really happening and then he sees newt and he knows him from his nightmares and newt just stares at him with this strange familiar feeling  
> And I'm not even sure if I'm alowed to do this yet, since I'm new in this buisness (haha) but I thought  
> "Why the heck not?" ~Complete humiliation and hate.~ "Fuck off, reason. I'll do this."
> 
> And, here's the thing, then.

No one understands. No one ever does.

He knows how the nurses look at him, how society looks at him. They think he’s stupid for being _sad._ His psychiatrist always asks the same thing. ‘Why are you sad?’. Why is he sad? Everything. The answer is everything. The shitty relationship with his parents, his step-brother degrading him every time the sees the chance, the lack of friends, the bullying, entire family ignoring him and then asking him why he doesn’t talk to them, everyone preferring his step-brother, even though he’s an asshole. Everything he remembers has been like that, and he eventually gave up.

He knows exactly what people think of his situation. Self-harm is stupid, he’s weak for giving in to his sadness. He knew something was wrong with him months before it became critical, and his mom told him a quote she read from a book. People think it’s something he can control. He can’t. 

It all started around September. His dad left him and his mom, which left them devastated, but he buried it away. His mom was sad enough, she didn’t need to worry about him too. So he was strong for her. He didn’t cry, except for when they gave him the news. He never yelled, never cried, never smiled.

Eventually, his mother found another man and they got married, giving Newt a step-brother who loved to bully him and never got punished, and a step-dad, who didn’t give two fucks about him. Then, after a few months, Newt started feeling this kind of hole in his chest. It was there all the time, a ball of darkness covering his heart. It got worse, so he investigated, coming to the conclusion that he was developing depression. He got worried, and told his mom one day in the car, when they were driving to the supermarket. His father and brother never went with them.  

“Mom, I’ve been feeling weird lately, and…” He gulped and kept talking. “I think it might be depression.”

His mom looked at him with an irritated expression, and then returned her eyes to the road.

“Of course not. You always self-diagnose. I’m sure it’s nothing.” She said, before sighing as she saw his son’s hurt face in the mirror. “Look, Newt.” She had said. “Look at everything you can do. You play the piano, you paint, you write. You’re an artist, and artists see more than other people can. They _feel_ more, plus the fact that you’re a teenager now. You’re just being oversensitive.”

“I mean… okay, yeah, but this feels differ-“

“No, Newt. You’re fine.” She interrupted, trying to convince the two of them. “In a book, it said ’our soul needs emotions to keep going. It’s up to us if we give it the positive or negative ones.’ Just concentrate on the positive.”

Newt nodded and never mentioned it again.

\--

It got worse. Worse to the point in which he cried, at least, three times a day. In which he felt better with harming himself. In which he considered suicide.

Then, he started getting these…attacks. They were horrible, and there was no way to see them coming. Just, suddenly, he stopped _feeling,_ and he hyperventilated, searching for something, anything to feel, and the emotions gradually returned, filling his chest with desperation, and anger, sadness, and he cried. He cried for hours in his bedroom.

\--

Time went on, and the lingering empty feeling around his heart turned into something worse. It felt like being in the bottom of a well, looking up and only seeing a dark sky, not even with stars, as it was covered with clouds.’ What’s the point?’ He asked himself. Even if he got out, he’d keep feeling the same, and no one was coming to the rescue, anyways. He couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. Playing the piano was the only thing he still enjoyed, and he was starting to hate that too. The only thing he didn’t hate in life anymore was his mom.

But it was too much, so he just wrote her a note and stopped swimming, wanting to see how deep the actual bottom of the well was.

\--

Now, he was stuck in a psychiatric hospital.

Today was his second day in there when he made a friend. His name was Minho.

“Hey there, you must be new. I’m Minho.” Newt heard a happy voice and a hand appeared in front of his eyes. He shook it.

“Newt.” He said quietly, with his eyes downcast as the boy who had spoken sat in front of him on the grass.

“Why are you here? Doctors said I have Pyromania. I don’t believe it, though.” He talked again, to which Newt finally looked up to see an Asian guy smiling down at him. Ugh. Why was he so fucking happy?

Instead of answering, Newt did the one thing that would surely make him go away, since he didn’t want to talk –or do anything- right now. He raised his hands, palms toward Minho so that he could see the bandages on his arms.

“Oh.” And Newt let his hands fall back onto his own lap, as the boy looked straight at Newt, but erased the sympathetic look on his face. “Depression, hu? Are you on watch?” He asked calmly.

Newt nodded and looked at the floor.

“Hey, that’s okay. Not judging.” Minho raised his hands in defeat, standing up and offering Newt a hand. “Come on. Let’s get some lunch. I’m starving, and it’s obvious you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Newt took the hand and was lifted from the ground.

Well, who would have guessed? He was better at making friends in a nuthouse than in a normal school.

\--

 Minho and him got to be really close friends, and Newt actually started talking with other people. A boy named Alby, another named Gally… He didn’t spend time with them as much as he did with Minho, but still.

He wasn’t getting better. He didn’t talk to his therapist, he avoided taking his medication because it  made him feel dizzy. He  knew that was not healthy, but he didn’t like it.

A few days later, a new boy arrived.

Newt only found out for one reason. He would be sharing room with the kid.

No one had told him, though, so it was kind of a surprise. Not a pleasant, nor unpleasant surprise. Just a surprise.

He had been out in the garden with Minho, just listening to an unrealistic plan of escape, when they were told by one of the nurses that dinner was almost ready, and that they couldn’t be outside anymore, so they got back in the building, Minho ate dinner, Newt played with his food, eating two or three spoonfuls of cereal at Minho’s request –“Seriously, dude. You have to eat.”- Before they got back to their respective rooms, with Newt’s excuse of ‘I’m really tired.’

But, when Newt opened the door, there was a boy sitting on the previously empty bed, looking at a thing Newt had been drawing that morning, and had left on the bed. He blushed, and didn’t think of it twice, before he was snatching the paper from the boy’s hands.

“That’s kind of private.” He said, scurrying to his bed and hiding the drawing where the others were: in the small space between his bed and the wall. That was one of the few things he was still allowed to do now. Draw, as long as he didn’t use things that were too sharp, or he could use to harm himself in any way.

“That’s pretty good. Did you draw it?” The boy asked, and Newt answered without looking at him.

“Yes, and I would appreciate it very much if you didn’t touch my stuff without my permission.”  He said bitterly, and he could practically feel the hurt puppy eyes the other boy threw him.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, man.” He said and added something a few seconds later. “But you’re really good drawing, I have to say.”

“Thanks.” Newt answered quietly and felt something swirl in his chest. Fuck. He was gonna cry. Fuckfuckfuck. He hated crying for nothing. Now, _that_ he thought was stupid. He reproached himself every time it happened.

“Um… Are you alright?” The boy asked from behind him, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Fine.” He replied, his voice not cracking or giving him away in any way. He was really good at controlling his voice, as his brother mocked him and called him names when he cried. It was a survival skill. “Just really tired. I think I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, me too. I’ll turn off the lights if you want to, I mean.” The boy started ranting and Newt interrupted him quietly.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“Okay.”

Newt tried to notice when he fell asleep. He failed.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hey there! I'm sorry it took me so long, and I'm sorry bc this is so short but I just got back to school, and teachers are happy to have us back, so they leave us tons of homework and UGH. But here it is. Yay. Extra virtual cookies and puppies for you all!!

Newt woke up to the nurses. He always woke up to the nurses, and they never let him stay in bed, even when all he wanted to do was sleep. He just wanted to sleep for the rest of his life, until everything was over.  
He knew they wouldn’t leave him until he got out of bed, so he kicked his covers away and sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The nurse just smiled at him kindly and walked out. Newt snorted.  
“They’re nice.” He heard a quiet voice from his left. Ah, yeah. The new kid.  
Newt lowered his eyes. He didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to see the look he already knew all over again, on a new face. Disappointment, disapproval, even if he didn’t know him.  
“Hey, I don’t think I introduced myself yesterday, which was probably rude. My name’s Thomas.” The boy said happily, and Newt frowned a bit. He didn’t sound as everyone. He was being kind. He wasn’t making remarks, or hinting at Newt’s mood the night before. He wasn’t trying to get him to talk about what had happened to him, or why he was there. He was just talking to him, as a normal human being. He wasn’t being careful about what he said. He just was.  
“M’ Newt.” The blond boy answered, still not looking up.  
“Wow. Is that your actual name? Does that even exist?” Newt could practically hear the boy tilting his head in confusion, and he felt the corner of his mouth curling up a bit, but it didn’t last long before he just shrugged.  
“No, but I don’t like my name.” He said quietly.  
“Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Thomas said happily, and Newt finally looked up. Well, Thomas looked kind of familiar. Really familiar, actually, but he couldn’t really tell from where, exactly.  
And then there it was. Thomas’ expression changes, his eyes wide open in, what? Shock? Horror? Both? Newt couldn’t tell, but he turned his eyes back to the ground immediately and bowed his head. He felt his cheeks getting hotter and his eyes watering. He felt that awful swirl in his chest, and heard the little voice at the back of his head asking him why he’d thought Thomas was any different. Telling him he was alone. He wasn’t worth someone different. He wasn’t worth any friends. Anything.  
He stood up and ran out of the room before the first tear fell to the floor.  
\--  
He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but he thought he had heard Thomas calling out for him when he ran. Whatever. He wasn’t gonna turn back and create an incredibly awkward situation.  
He kept running, but it wasn’t long before he ran into someone.  
“Newt? What’s wrong?” He heard Minho’s voice as he turned to run in other direction, but was grabbed by the arm. He tried to pull away, but failed miserably. He was really thin. He hadn’t been eating, because he was never hungry anymore. “Hey, Newt. It’s okay. What happened?” He asked, making the blond boy take a deep, shaky breath before he started talking, his voice not breaking at any point.  
“It’s nothing.” He answered, looking seriously at Minho.  
“Are you sure? You look pretty upset-“  
“I said I’m fine.” Newt frowned, and Minho looked a bit hurt, but smirked immediately.  
“Okay, fine. No need to get like that.” The dark-haired boy chuckled, managing to rip a hint of a smile out of Newt, who felt a pang of guilt at the action. He always felt guilt when he smiled, when he laughed, when he felt even slightly happy. It felt as if he was betraying someone; he didn’t even know why that happened, and he wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.  
“Shut up and let’s get some breakfast.” The previously-crying boy said, and they both started walking towards the cafeteria.  
\--  
The day went on as normal. He didn’t talk to his therapist, ignoring her the whole session. He skipped most of his group therapy, hiding in the library until a nurse found him and dragged him to the room, fifteen minutes before it ended. The nurse decided there was no point in interrupting, and let him go. He distracted himself, here and there, talking with Minho –well, listening to Minho talk-, and sometimes on his own, going to the cafeteria, barely eating. Finally, the day finished.  
“…and yeah. Whatever. See you tomorrow, man. That doctor’s looking at me, and I don’t like to get escorted to my room. “ Minho said and patted Newt on his back, before he walked away, quickly.  
Newt sighed deeply and started walking at a slow pace.  
“’Night.” He whispered, and felt a pang of loneliness, to which he frowned, and started walking faster, suddenly angry at himself. ’ _What did you expect? For him to be around, just worrying about you? He has a life. He would most likely not care if you just disappeared one day. So stop. Just stop.’_ That stupid voice said from the back of his head.  
He started trotting down the corridors, feeling that urge to just punch himself.  
And then, when he was about to open the door to his room, he remembered. Shit. Thomas would be inside.  
Newt sighed again, steadying himself, and got in, walking straight to throw himself on his bed.  
As he had thought, Thomas was there when he turned his head to look.  
“Hi.” The brunet said, and he looked kind of ashamed. Why would he be ashamed?  
“Hi.” Newt answered, and turned his gaze back to the ceiling. They were silent for a couple minutes before Thomas spoke again, and the blond boy looked at him again.  
“Hey, um… I’m really sorry for how I treated you this morning. I just… you…” His voice died off, slowly.  
“I what?” Newt snapped angrily and Thomas flinched. Newt sighed, looking away. “I’m sorry. I… I what?” He repeated, calmly this time.  
“I mean, you look familiar.” Thomas said, but Newt could hear him hesitating. He knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t want Thomas to feel bad or anything.  
“So that wasn’t just me, hu?” He answered, and could feel Thomas’ look of confusion from where he sat on his own bed. “Yes. You look familiar, too.” Newt made his point stronger, and the brunet cleared his throat. He sounded… uncomfortable.  
“Yeah, but like, I’ve seen you, and I actually know where.”  
“Well, enlighten me, ‘cause I haven’t got a bloody idea where I’ve seen you.” Newt chuckled humorlessly.  
“Oh, well…” Thomas said quietly. “Um… kinda hard to explain, umm… Okay, so, the reason I’m here for is that I have these like, nightmares? I’ve seen you in them.” The boy fell silent after that, and Newt could hear him moving around on his bed, but didn’t look at him.  
“Hu.” He frowned. “Okay, that’s okay.” He didn’t know how to answer to that, actually.  
Thomas huffed out a breath, and Newt closed his eyes.  
 _'Great. You just ruined everything for the thousandth time in you life. Just great.'_ He told himself and started drifting off. At some point, he was conscious enough to notice the lights going out, because the world he could see through his eyelids turned black, instead of that reddish colour you can see when they are on.  
 _'You are a failure.'_  The horrible voice at the back of his head said, and that was the last thing he could hear before he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When Newt woke up the next day, he felt Thomas looking at him as the nurses walked out of the room.

“Hey”. Newt said softly, making Thomas frown.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”He asked, voice cold and plain, but also kind of… disappointed. Not in Newt, but in himself.

“No, I don’t.” Newt answered, and it was true. Thomas seemed to notice, and his frown gradually contorted into a confused expression.

“You don’t?” He repeated the other boy’s words as a question and Newt shook his head slightly “But how? I think I’m crazy myself.” The brunette looked away, a sad ghost lingering in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t, and that should be enough.” Newt said firmly. It had become kind of an habit to make whatever he could to make people feel good. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to feel like a waste of space, and he didn’t want anyone to feel the same. He didn’t know the exact reason, though.

Thomas smiled after a while, the sadness vanishing from his eyes in a flash.

“Okay, guess we’ve had kind of a drama here, so let’s start again, yeah? Hi. My name’s Thomas.” He said.

Newt sighed, but smiled weakly for about two seconds, before he spoke up.

“’M Newt. Hey.” He answered half-heartedly.

“Hey, Newt. I was wondering if you’d let me sit with you in the cafeteria, as I’m currently sitting with a guy named David, and he creeps me out like a lot.” Thomas whispered, as if he was telling him a secret and didn’t want people to hear him, even though there was no one in the room besides them. Newt managed a chuckle, which made him feel the oh-so-familiar pang of guilt in his chest and close his eyes, before he composed himself in two or three seconds.

“Of course. I’m not much fun either, but as you wish.” He answered, and if Thomas had noticed his slight crisis, he didn’t say a thing, and instead just sighed in overacted relief.

\--

Thomas sat with him and Minho during breakfast. Newt wasn’t hungry, as per usual. Minho told him to eat. He managed a few spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. Thomas seemed worried by him not eating. Newt didn’t care.

After that, he had this kind of ‘artistic therapy’ or whatever. Minho and Thomas were there, too, and they were told by the therapist –instructor? Teacher?-  to draw themselves, or their emotions, or their ideas as a tree. Newt sighed and took a pencil, staring at the blank piece of paper in front of him. He’d just draw a lifeless tree. There was no point in lying, anyway.

“How do you even draw?” Minho asked after a few minutes of silence, making Newt and Thomas look up from their own papers.

Newt had to bite his lip, trying his best not to laugh, but Minho noticed this.

“Oh, shut up! You can draw and will never understand my pain.” The dark-haired boy stated determinately and Thomas and Newt started laughing. The guilt was there, but, for the first time in _months,_ he decided to ignore it and kept laughing, feeling it grow, but ignoring it as much as he could, until his laughter faded away slowly, along with Thomas’.

“No, but seriously. How even?” Minho kept saying, as the three of them went back to their own drawings.

“Dunno. I’m having the same problem here.” Thomas answered, and Newt sighed dramatically and looked at both of them.

“It’s a bloody tree. Just draw a rectangle with a green cloud on top of it.” He said with a smile, and Thomas chuckled lightly, while Minho took a new sheet from the stack the therapist had left on the table.

“That’s it. I’ll start again.” He took the pencil back, and started drawing.

They were silent for a few minutes, and, after Minho’s third try of drawing a decent tree, Newt took a new sheet, drew the base of the drawing really lightly with his pencil, and gave it to him.

“There. Do whatever you want with that.” He said, standing up with his own finished drawing, and heard Minho’s ‘How does he do that?! What even!!’ from behind him as he gave his result to the therapist, who smiled kindly at him, before he just nodded in acknowledgement and walked back to his seat. He was actually free to go, but he would wait for his friends –could he really call them that? Or were they just hanging out to like survive or whatever?-, no rush.

He sat there, looking at them while they coloured their drawings. His was only pencil, theirs weren’t. Thomas’ was a mass of different colours, thrown here and there, without any apparent pattern, and there was a house, or something of the sort on the background. Minho’s was a normal tree, except it was on fire. Was he serious? A tree on fire. Newt felt like chuckling, but was stopped by a jump his heart made, which made him ache inside.

When they both finished, they went to the garden and started walking around, chatting, if Thomas and him listening to Minho’s stories and commenting on them slightly could be taken as chatting.

They ate dinner together, and then Minho ran to his room, chased by a nurse who had noticed his intentions of sneaking food into his bedroom, and leaving Newt alone with Thomas to walk to their own dorm-room.

“Am I your friend?” Newt asked without thinking.

“Um… I guess?” Thomas answered, and he sounded clearly confused.

“No. I mean in- the dreams. Am I your friend?” Newt explained, looking up, and mentally reprimanding himself for being so freakin’ _stupid_ and making Thomas feel awkward, or bad, or weird.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I guess that… yeah. You could say. Yeah.” Thomas said quickly, with a lot of stuttering and a very noticeable blushing.

“Oh. That’s good, isn’t it?” Newt pushed him gently as they walked, with a smile on his face, that looked more melancholic than happy when you looked at it accompanying a pair of sad, haunted eyes.

“Yes. I think it is.” Thomas smiled slightly, as they got into the room.

When they were already in bed, and the lights were off, and Newt was already half-asleep, he thought he could hear Thomas say something, and he would have asked what it was, but he was too tired. He’d mention it tomorrow.

What he didn’t know was that he wouldn’t remember to ask the next day, and that he’d never get to know that what Thomas had said, was a simple ‘Very good, indeed.’, and that, if you thought about it, it wasn’t so simple at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for making you wait, but here it is at least. Enjoy!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! :) So, just as a warning, there might be triggers in this chapter!! Also, a lot of drama, and stuff... Sorrynotsorry. Please, please, please, do not read if it affects you in any way. I want you all to be safe, okay? Love you <3  
> Xxx.

Newt got a little bit better after that afternoon he spent with Thomas and Minho. He started taking his medicines more frequently –he still avoided them sometimes, just not as much as he did before- , talking a bit more, smiling more, ignoring the guilt as much as he could… but life’s a bitch, so it wouldn’t stay like that for long. Of course it wouldn’t.

You see, when his parents had put him in the hospital, it was a week or so before Christmas.

Two days before Christmas, Newt got visits during dinner. Great.

He stood up and met with his mom on the hallway, right outside the cafeteria.

His mother hugged him tight and he hugged back, letting a sigh of contentment fall from his lips, and his limbs relax for the few seconds the hug lasted.

“Hi mom.” He said when she pulled back, looking at him with a teary smile.

“I missed you.” She answered and Newt hummed, wordlessly telling her he had missed her, too “How are you?”

That felt like a punch to the stomach, which made Newt feel like crying and dying right where he was, without even a real reason.

“Good.” He answered instead, hiding all his feelings behind a well-practiced smile. His mom smiled, too, getting something out from her handbag. A present.

“Here.” She handed it to him “I wanted to give it to you before your dad and your brother arrived.”

_‘He’s not my father, and he’s not my brother._ ’ Newt thought bitterly, but just smiled brightly and took the red, rectangular pack.

“But I didn’t get you anything.” He frowned and his mom laughed, lighting the entire room –hallway- up.

“Don’t be silly! Just open it.” She answered, looking fondly at her son.

He started unwrapping the gift carefully, when a voice he knew oh-so-well startled him. He quickly hid the present under his jacket.

“Hey there, Newty!” His step-brother’s voice was heard.

“Don’t call me that.” Newt muttered, shrinking in on himself a bit.

“How’s it going, Bleeder?” The other boy continued, ignoring the blond’s comment completely.

“Jake!” His mom reprehended.

“Leave it, he’s just kidding, right, son?” Newt barely kept himself from wincing at his step-father’s voice.

“Well, duh!” Jake answered, and Newt wondered how his step-brother could be such a great actor.

“Fine.” Newt’s mother said after a second “Then, we’re going to talk to the doctor, okay? Wait for us here. We’ll be right back.” She smiled kindly, and walked away with her husband, leaving Newt alone with Jake, whose smile turned immediately into a snarky grin.

There was a short silence between them, which was broken by someone opening the door to the cafeteria.

“Hey, Newt, what are you even- _oh…”_ Minho’s voice was heard from the door “Hey there, I’m Minho.” He said, awkwardly.

“What?” Came Thomas’ voice from behind Minho, who just went to stand next to Newt, so that the brunette could see the situation.

“Ah. Um… Hello. I’m Thomas.” He said and stood to Newt’s other side.

“They’re my-“ The blond boy began, but got interrupted by Jake.

“Boyfriends?” His step-brother raised a mocking eyebrow, and Newt could see Thomas blush next to him.

“Well, what if we are?” Minho jumped up to his defense before Newt could even open his mouth, and the blue-eyed boy felt panic rising in his chest when the Asian boy put an arm around his waist, to keep up with the act he had just started.

Jake raised both eyebrows now, widening his eyes in fake shock.

“Batty boy! Already letting everyone around fuck you? How worthless…” He said, acting disapproval as he looked directly at Newt, who just started shaking his head frantically as the tears he had been holding fell down his cheeks.

He was hyperventilating and everything was a blur as he looked around, desperately searching for an exit.

He started running down the corridor, getting rid of his friend’s grip around his waist. He heard yelling behind him, a crack, a scream, more yelling, but he didn’t stop. He ran, his feet carrying him without even letting him think about it.

When he started seeing clearly again, he realized he was on top of the building, a few feet away from the ledge. He took a hesitant step forward.

_He was right and you know it. You’re worthless._

Another step.

_Everyone hates you._

Another step.

_Your real dad? He left you._

Another step.

_Your mom? She has no other choice._

Another step.

_Jake? He says what other people are afraid to say._

Another step.

_Your step father? He just shows how he feels about you._

Another step.

_Minho? He just keeps up with you because he thought you could be useful. He was so wrong._

Another step.

_Thomas? He feels sorry for you, and is forced to live with you. Poor soul._

Another step.

_They are just so scared to hurt you. Why? You’re not worth it. They should just tell you. They should just put you out of your misery._

Another step, and he was right there, looking at the street below. Newt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, feeling the cold December wind blow through his hair, inviting him to try and fly. To join it. He felt all that sorrow, all that anger, and made his decision.

_If they are not strong enough to do it for themselves, then do it yourself. Stop ruining their lives. Finish yours._

Newt felt a sudden feel of peace, opened his arms, and prepared to take the final step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be happier, I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's here, at least ^^

Chapter 5

He was starting to move his foot when someone yanked him backwards, making him fall to the concrete of the roof.

He just stayed there, lying on the ground, looking at the floor, and the tears started streaming again. He felt sad again. He had stopped flying, and he felt trapped. Someone had pulled him to the ground and put him in a cage.

“Don’t do it. Please, please, don’t do that again.” Newt heard a voice next to him, and noticed a pair of arms around him.

He turned to see who was holding him. It was Thomas, and he was crying, too. Newt processed what the brunette had just said, and felt his sadness turning into anger.

“And why the bloody hell not, Tommy?!” He yelled, pulling away from Thomas and standing up abruptly “NO ONE CARES ABOUT ME, ANYWAYS.”

“I do.” He answered, calmly.

“No, you don’t.” Newt said, his breath coming out in uneven pants, and his vision starting to blur with unshed tears “I know you don’t, because if I don’t care about me, who will? No one. Absolutely no one!” He kept yelling, and the tears started falling, and suddenly he was sitting again, and Thomas was in front of him, and he was saying something, but Newt couldn’t hear him. Why couldn’t he hear him? Newt felt his throat hurting, and he realized he was still saying something, but he couldn’t hear anything, and he was starting to panic, and the world was blurring again, and, suddenly, his mind was clear again, and he could hear, and breathe again.

That’s when he noticed.

Thomas had just _kissed_ him.

He had held him in place and planted a kiss on his lips, and now he was looking at Newt with wide eyes, and bewildered expression.

“Would you-“Newt spoke after a while of silence, with just the sound of traffic and wind to break it. He licked his lips quickly and spoke again “Would you mind, um… trying that again?” He asked, and thought he could see Thomas’ mouth curl into a small smile for a second.

Newt closed his eyes slowly as soon as he felt a hand on his cheek, seconds before a soft pair of lips touched his own, barely even touching, actually. The blond moved his head forward a bit, and they kissed. It just lasted a few seconds, and it was chaste, but, when they pulled back, Newt noticed he was not crying anymore, and he didn’t feel that whirly void in his chest anymore. Well, that was weird.

“What are you thinking?” He heard Thomas’ voice, and focused his eyes on him.

“Absolutely nothing.” He answered.

“Then, what are you feeling?” Newt turned to look at the stars in the clear winter sky. What was he feeling? He felt a swirl in his chest, the permanent dark cloud was returning to its original position around his heart, the buried anger was still there, but he felt a flash of happiness, and an ocean of guilt in his stomach, trying to drown the butterflies that were flying around in it, but failing horribly.

“Too much.” Newt answered, finally.

“Is that a good thing?”

Newt thought of it for a while, before he slowly nodded. Yeah. It was.

“Good.” Thomas smiled, and Newt tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. Suddenly, the realization of why Thomas had kissed him hit him hard. He had been having a panic attack. That was the only reason. He started crying again, and the brunette held him and kissed his forehead. “Hey. It’s okay, I’m here. I care about you.” He started whispering, and Newt sighed, closing his eyes, and accepting what was real. They were both messed up. But they still could try. “Um… not to ruin it, but I think we should go downstairs, because Minho just punched that asshole on the face.” Thomas said after a while, and made Newt chuckle.

“I’m glad.” He said, standing up and offering Thomas a hand.

\--

Minho had, indeed, punched Jake on the face, giving him a bleeding nose, and a swollen eye.

When Thomas and Newt walked up to the blond’s family, there was a nurse there, and Newt’s parents had come back from talking to the boy’s doctor.

“What happened?” Newt asked, preferring to play dumb, and he felt Thomas shifting by his side, not knowing what to do.

“One of your crazy friends just punched him on the face!” His step-father said, looking accusingly at Newt before he planted his eyes on Thomas. “Is this one as nuts as the other one? Hu?”

“My friends are not crazy.” The boy answered in a cold voice, looking harshly at the older man.

“Yes, they are. They’re freaks, like you. Everyone in this hospital is.” Jake interrupted, and Newt’s mom looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“What?” Thomas’ voice was heard, and Jake’s father opened his mouth to answer, but got suddenly interrupted by the nurse.

“Excuse me, but I will ask you to leave. It’s bed time, and it is not allowed for the patients to wander around after curfew. You can come tomorrow, if you’d like to.” He said, looking severely at Jake and his father.

“No, I don’t think we’d like that.” The man answered, his eyes cutting like knives as he turned his gaze towards Newt, who felt the urge to cry, but held his head as high as he could, and tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat.

After that, his family was gone, not without a final hug from his mother.

The nurse led them to their room, and Newt did all he could to let go of his feelings, to get them out.

He sat down on his bed, and started drawing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. It sucks, but I'll try to make next chapter a little bit better, okay? 
> 
> xX


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. Just to clear up why they just go to bed without changing or anything, it's bc they were already on their pj's while they were dining, so... yeah.   
> Also, sorry for the waiting! Enjoy!!  
> xX
> 
> [By the way, here's Newt's drawing:  
> http://holmescott.tumblr.com/post/100383128027/yeah-this-is-pretty-shitty-sorry-about-that]

Newt closed his eyes and concentrated on his feelings.

Guilt. Anxiety. Sadness. Anger. Desperation.

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and drew himself. He was just a silhouette in the middle of the page. A ghost to most of the people in the world. He didn’t exist in their worlds, just another kid, as indifferent to them as they were to him; then, he started colouring.

Yellow. Orange. Blue. Red. Purple. Red. Orange. Yellow. Everything trapped under a blue sky and on a blue puddle. No way to escape. He was burning and drowning at the same time. Burning with anger, drowning in guilt, so dangerous, so indefense.

When he was finished, he looked up, finally feeling the pair of eyes on him, and the presence next to him.

“That’s beautiful.” Thomas said with a soft smile on his face.

“Thanks.” Newt answered, and there was a beat of silence before he spoke again, maybe too sudden, as Thomas looked up quickly in startle “You can keep it.”

The brunette stared at him in disbelief, which made him blush and start to babble.

“I mean- I know it’s not bloody Francis Bacon or anything, but if you want it, I mean… you can have it. I don’t mind.” He was interrupted by a kiss on his cheek, which made him shut up and look straight at Thomas.

“I love it. Thank you, so much.” He said, smiling and taking the drawing Newt was offering to him.

Newt smiled back, and they were in silence for a bit before Thomas spoke up again.

“Hey, I’m pretty tired so, would you mind if I go to sleep?” He asked, and Newt shook his head.

“No. I’m actually pretty tired myself.” He answered, suddenly aware of how every muscle of his body ached, just as his chest and throat.

“Then, is it okay if I turn off the lights? Or are you gonna do something else?” Thomas asked, standing up, and grazing the light switch tentatively.

“Nothing. It’s completely fine.” He said, and laid down. He saw the lights turn off, but just kept staring at the ceiling, tired but not able to sleep. He could feel Thomas was still awake, too, but decided not to comment on it.

There was a long silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was just silence, until Thomas broke it.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” He asked, and Newt answered without detaching his gaze from the ceiling for a second.

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And you are free to be mad at me and punch me, it’d just be preferable if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, just ask the bloody question.” Newt said, feeling a smile forming on his lips for a second, before it disappeared.

 “Fine. I was just wondering…” Thomas made a pause, but then continued “why were you so affected by that kid’s comment? I mean like, he’s a jerk, and everything, but it wasn’t true, so, why?”

Newt felt his stomach clench in nervousness and panic, and he froze, his eyes opened wider than usual. He kept silent, and heard Thomas shift uncomfortably around his own bed, making the sheets ruffle as some kind of whispering crowd, waiting to see what happened next.

“You don’t have to answer. I knew it was too personal, I’m so sorry. I’ll shut up now.” The brunette’s voice was heard in the middle of the dark room, making Newt come back to his senses.

“No. It’s okay, it has been some time, I just-“ Newt cut himself  and sighed deeply, not in irritation. He sounded more tired than anything else “Every insult has a story, Tommy. Or else, they wouldn’t hurt as much.” He said, thinking of how he could continue, but anything came to his mind, so he just stayed there, clutching his sheets like an idiot.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked and Newt felt like crying, because he sounded _scared._ Genuinely scared of what the blond might be about to tell him.

“Nothing really happened.” Newt tried to calm Thomas a bit, and he had a bit of success, as he felt Thomas’ body relax on the corner of his eye “It’s just… one afternoon my mom worked until late, and Jake had some friends over. They were older than me, all of them, and I didn’t feel like putting up with their shit, so I just decided to spend the rest of the day in my room.” He started, feeling the hatred and anxiety rise in his chest, making him feel sick, wanting to punch a wall, clenching his hands into fists. He continued “But of course, I got thirsty at some point, so I risked going downstairs for some water. What I hadn’t counted with, was that they’d be in the kitchen, doing God knows what. Probably something stupid. So I just grabbed the water and walked out of there, walking back up the stairs without making a single noise. I mean, they had seen me, of course, but I was hoping they wouldn’t talk to me. I was surely not expecting one of them to follow me…” He stopped. His mouth was dry, and he could feel Thomas had tensed up again, looking directly at Newt.

“And what happened?” The brunette asked softly, calming Newt down a bit.

“Then I was pushed against a wall, and he was kissing me. The bottle of water fell to the floor, and I panicked. I tried to push away, but the guy was a monster.” He continued, and heard a small noise come from Thomas. Something between a gasp and a sob “I managed to scream for help, and I think that was my worst mistake, because Jake came up, and he just chuckled and told his friend to go downstairs, and they just left me there. Eventually I went back to my room. I’m not even sure if I cried, or not. Everything was- still is- a blur. And it wasn’t anything, really. It was just a kiss, I mean… It’s okay.” He finished and he wanted to cry, but he didn’t want Thomas to worry even more, so he held himself together, for the other’s sake.

“No, it’s not okay. How can you say it’s okay just like that? Didn’t you tell your mom?” Thomas spoke up after a few seconds of silence.

“No, I didn’t tell her, but it’s done and we can’t do anything about it now, so just let it go, Thomas.” He answered, suddenly irritated at the boy’s attitude. Didn’t he know Newt thought exactly the same? Did he think he was stupid or something?

“No! You have to-“ Thomas started, but got interrupted by a huff.

“Goodnight, Thomas.” Newt said harshly, turning on his side, now staring at the wall.

“Goodnight.” Thomas whispered back weakly after a few minutes.

Newt waited for the brunette’s breathing to slow down, and then, he cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this sucks. Sorry.   
> ~I'm ruining everything. Yay.~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!! :)

When Newt woke up, it wasn’t to the nurses.

It actually took him a while to notice why exactly he had woken up to, but he eventually came to his senses, hearing an uneven breathing to his left first thing. He turned to the noise to see Thomas, moving around his bed and hyperventilating, his expression full of worry and fear, and the tears streaming down his cheeks from closed eyes.

Newt jumped up from his bed, rushing over to kneel at the bedside of the other boy, speaking softly in his ear.

“Tommy. Hey, wake up.” He whispered, making the brunette wake up with a jump and a loud gasp “Are you okay?” He asked as Thomas looked around with wide, terrified eyes. He calmed down when he settled his gaze on Newt, though he still looked quite worried and sad.

“Hi.” He said weakly, looking down.

“Nightmare?” Newt asked softly and the other boy nodded, “Want to talk about it?” He added. He wanted to help Thomas, make him feel better, but he didn’t know _how._

His thoughts and ideas on what he could do were interrupted by Thomas, who started moving on the bed, pushing himself towards the furthest side of the bed. Newt panicked, widening his eyes for a bit and feeling his heart skip a beat and then jump painfully in his chest.

– _Had he done something wrong? Was Thomas mad at him? Oh, God. He obviously was. Newt had been an asshole earlier. Why was he so stupid? Why did he ruin everything? Couldn’t he do anything right? For one time in his life?_ \- These thoughts were interrupted, yet again, by Thomas, who held the covers up for Newt to get in. The blond scurried quickly and felt the warm sheets fall over him, wrapping him in a comfortable heat.

He laid there, face to face with Thomas. They were both silent, waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t completely calm, it just was. Then, Thomas spoke up.

“They hurt you.” He said simply, fresh silent tears slipping from his eyes, and, even though Newt tried to, he couldn’t make any sense of that, so he settled on the most simple answer he could manage.

“Who?”

“You know who.” Thomas answered steadily, looking at him in what could’ve been described as an accusatory look.

Newt could feel his face contorting in confusion. How could he possibly know that? That’s when it happened. He could hear a whisper at the back of his head. It sounded as if it had been said underwater, so he could not understand what it was saying, but he could hear it for a second, a single word, before it disappeared.

Thomas sighed and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just- you were there, and some monsters hurt you, and I wasn’t there, and I got so angry. I’m sorry.” He said, closing his eyes and hiding his face in his pillow.

Newt bit his lip, feeling the urge to cry. Thomas should not care that much about him. Why did he care so much? But he pulled himself together and spoke, trying his best to make Thomas feel better.

“But I’m here. I’m okay.” He said, reaching out to lift Thomas’ chin, so the brunette was looking at him in the eye, “See? I’m here.” He finished, forcing a smile on his face although he felt like vanishing, which only made his heart ache a bit more. But he held himself. He had to.

Thomas only nodded, and they hugged, and neither of them noticed when they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so short. I'm so sorry.  
> (I'll try to make it better next time, I promise)
> 
> Love you!!!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long!!  
> I had stuff to do in school, and THIS MAJOR WRITER'S BLOCK I HAD TO BATTLE AGAINST, but I'm alright now ^^  
> Hope you enjoy it, and thanks!!! xoXOoxoOXoxoOXOoxoOXO  
> *Throws some Thomas being a dork at the end of the chapter bc she's so sorry.*

The next day, Newt woke up a few minutes before the nurses came. He looked around, feeling… different. He felt lighter, he felt comfortable.

When he looked to his left, he couldn’t help himself from smiling, even if it was just for a brief second. Thomas’ hair was ruffled and he let out small, puffed breaths as he slept. Their regular nurse walked in a minute or so after that, carrying both boys’ medicines with her.

“Boys, you can’t sleep in the same bed.” She said, though it was kindly, with a smile, and she sounded warm, and even a bit playful. Thomas woke up to her voice, throwing his arms around in surprise and getting tangled with the sheets and Newt’s own legs, before he finally calmed down and sat up, looking kind of sheepish over what had just happened.

The nurse gave them their corresponding medicine. Thomas swallowed it immediately. Newt hesitated. He looked at the small pills in his cup, frowning a bit, before he looked at Thomas, who was listening to something the nurse was saying. He returned his gaze to the cup, releasing a long breath before he swallowed them down.

\---

They found Minho in the cafeteria. A nurse was near his table, looking at him intently, as if he was waiting for the boy to suddenly stand up and throw stuff at people.

They both sat with him, not really sure if they were allowed to, but the nurse didn’t say anything, so they just went on as normal.

“Hi.” Newt said with a small smile on his face.

“Hey.” Minho answered with a smirk, looking at both of them.

Newt felt an urge to know what had happened to him the night before, because he was pretty sure no one could just get away with punching someone on the face, but he felt like he wasn’t in the position to ask. Apparently, Thomas didn’t feel the same.

“Did you get into trouble?” The brunette asked, and Newt felt the panic rising in his chest. What if Minho was mad at him? Oh, God. He probably didn’t want to _look_ at him. However, the dark-haired boy just shrugged.

“They put some restraints on me because I wouldn’t calm down, but they were off when I woke up. That guy is gonna follow me around the whole time, though.” He said, pointing behind his back at the nurse, and actually smiling.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Newt intervened, frowning a bit, hoping that would make Minho notice his mistake.

“Yes, I had to. The guy was a douche.” Minho answered, looking incredibly upset at Newt’s reaction to him defending him. “By the way, I had to ask, seriously. Why didn’t you decline his visit? I don’t think that was the first time he talked to you like that, so why did you accept him?” Minho looked pissed at the whole situation, so the blond just sighed.

“My mom.” He answered. “My mom wanted me to get along with him, and Harry, and I tried, but they just treated me like garbage, so I just gave up. They never treated me like that in front of her, so I just figured I’d pretend, just like they did. If I had declined, she would’ve noticed something was wrong and I- I don’t want to cause any trouble to her, you know? I just… I don’t know.”

“So they’re not your family?” The other boy seemed confused by the whole situation, and Thomas was just listening with a frown, looking down at his plate.

“No. Harry’s my step-father. He married my mom some time after my father left us, and Jake, the guy you met last night, is his son. I never liked them, but my mom looked happy with him, so I didn’t say anything. Besides, they both treat her like she’s royalty. I didn’t want to deprive her from happiness, just because I wasn’t enjoying myself.” He finished, picking at his food with the spork they had given him. He loved sporks.

“That’s not healthy, Newt. You can’t make everyone happy all the time.” His friend said softly, and Newt felt anger and desperation rising up in his gut. He didn’t answer, so the other two boys decided to change the subject, in which the blond didn’t participate.

\--

That day, Newt had individual therapy. He didn’t plan on talking to Mr. Griffiths, he never did. He just prepared himself for an hour of sitting on a couch and looking at the doctor, or at his own hands.

“Hey, Newt. How are you?”  He asked, smiling slightly at the boy. Mr. Griffiths was kind, and he looked like a good person. He was warm, and Newt liked him quite a bit. He was kind, and had started calling him Newt because he asked him to, not like other adults did. He understood.

“Hey.” He answered, slouching down on the small couch there was in the room.

“How are you feeling?”

Newt didn’t want to answer, but to tell someone how he was feeling was what he craved the most, even if it was subconsciously. So it wasn’t a surprise, and it was too much of a surprise when he started talking.

“I feel trapped. I feel like I’m falling the whole time, but like I’m never going to hit the ground, and it’s so boring. I feel like I’m floating alone through eternity, and I just want it to stop. I can’t see a future, and I don’t care about what happens to me anymore.” He said, looking at Griffiths, his voice not faltering at any point.

“What do you care about?” The man asked back, leaning forward.

“My mom, mostly.” Newt answered, and it was true. He did care about her. “I care about my music teacher, and my dog, my cat. My grandparents. I care about my father, even if he’s gone. I care about Thomas. I care about Minho.” He said, and saw a hint of recognition at the last two names in the man’s eyes.

“Would you miss them if you were to go?” He asked, looking softly at Newt, and the boy felt like crying, because Mr. Griffiths looked like he _cared._ How could he care? The blond nodded, feeling the tears start to flow from his stomach to his eyes, and he felt good. He had started talking, and now he didn’t want to stop.

“Yes. I’d miss them like hell. I’d miss music. I’d miss books. I’d miss Christmas, and the birds singing early in the morning. I’d miss socks on wintertime. I’d miss entering a hot bath when my limbs are cold as ice. I’d miss the sky. I’d miss painting, and drawing, and sketching. I’d miss playing the piano, and the guitar. I’d miss laughing with my mom about stupid inside jokes. I’d miss going to museums with my grandpa. I’d miss my grandma, and how she’s a total badass, and I’d miss petting random dogs on the street, and-” He laughed a bit, and noticed the tears were flowing down his cheeks and the small sobs coming from his chest, and he had said too much, but he hadn’t said enough, yet. He had to say more, but he didn’t know what to say. Mr. Griffiths was holding his hand, and he tried to smile at him, but it came out as a grimace as another sob overcame him.

“Newt, I want you to focus on those things. I want you to remember them every time you’re feeling bad. I know it’s not as easy. I know they won’t always make you feel better, but it’s really useful. And whenever you feel life is not worth it, think about those things. And whenever you feel _you_ are not worth it, think about the people you’d miss if you were gone, and just know that they would all miss you too.” Mr. Griffiths said softly, looking directly at the boy, and Newt felt like crumbling to pieces right there and then. He didn’t know out of what he felt that, but he felt it; it didn’t feel completely bad, but it didn’t feel completely good either. It just was.

\--

He was back in his room, on his own, thinking about little nothings, filling his mind with things he’d miss. It did make him feel a little bit better.

Then, he remembered something. His mom’s gift, yesterday. He hadn’t opened it, yet.

He reached for his jacket, taking the pack out and turning it around in his hands, beginning to open it slowly, as slowly as he could. He didn’t like to tear the paper of the gifts, never did, because the person had taken time and effort to wrap it prettily, and it just wasn’t fair for you to tear it. Besides, he liked to keep all the wrapping paper of past gifts in a small box. It made him feel warm inside.

Finally, he unwrapped it, looking at the book in his hands. He smiled, seeing the cover of his favourite book, ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower.’ It wasn’t even that special if he thought about it. The writing wasn’t the best he had ever read, the story wasn’t the best he had ever heard of, but there was just so much sentiment poured into it. That was what made it remarkable to him. He caressed the cover in a tender way. This was maybe the best thing he had ever been given, since his first copy of the book was all worn down, already in need of a rubber band to hold the pages together. He wouldn’t throw it out, that was for sure, but it was good to have a new copy. Easier to read. He smiled.

“Thank you, mom.” He said in a quiet voice, putting it on his bed before standing up. He had told Minho and Thomas he would meet them in the garden.

\--

Later that day, before going to sleep, Thomas looked at him with a faint blush on his face.

“Hey, Newt?”

“Mmh?”

“Would you mind- I mean- you don’t have to, I just wanted to ask you if you, umm… if I could sleep with you again?” The brunette asked nervously, exploding in explanations before the other could even begin to formulate an answer. “I mean, it’s just, last night I slept better than I had in months, and I’m asking as a favor, because I really don’t like having circles under my eyes, you know? I just, I mean-“

“I would gladly help you sleep.” Newt interrupted with an amused smile on his face, making Thomas relax visibly.

“Thank God. I didn’t want to sound as a creepy weirdo, ya’ know?” He answered and the blond laughed slightly, as Thomas turned off the lights.

“You’re a creepy weirdo all the time. You don’t have to hide it.” Newt said jokingly and they both lay down on one bed.

“Haha, really funny.” He answered and there was a long moment of silence. “Hey?” Thomas spoke just when Newt had started to think they’d be silent for the rest of the night.

“Mmh?” He answered, already in a sleep trance.

“Who the hell is Francis Bacon?”

“Thomas, what?”

“Last night you said your drawing wasn’t bloody Francis Bacon. Who the hell is Francis Bacon?”

“You ignorant piece of shit.” He joked.

“No, but seriously.”

“Google it.”

“No, Newt. You can’t leave me like this. I need to know.”

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

“But- I- You- ugh, fine. Goodnight.”

When Newt fell asleep, there was a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it, sweeties!!  
> Also, you can find me on tumblr as holmescott, and ask me for something you'd like me to write, or collaborate with me, or something? It would make me so happy!  
> Bye, sweethearts! Till next chapter  
> xxx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!!  
> Here's the new chapter, hope you like it!  
> <3

Next day, he woke up to a kiss on his forehead.

“Merry Christmas.” A voice said next to him, and made him get rid of sleep.

“Happy Christmas.” He answered, yawning shortly after. He felt rested, for the first time in a while.

“We have the day free.” Thomas said with a goofy smile on his face.

“Oh, really? To do what?” Newt frowned. There wasn’t much to do in this place, and that made him feel a little bit frustrated. It made him feel uncomfortable and useless, something like those times in which you want to do something, but nothing sounds pleasant enough to actually do it, and you end up feeling trapped and anxious.

“I don’t know. We could just find Minho and solve mysteries, and stop Mrs. Paige from controlling the world.” Thomas said, smirking slightly and moving his hands a lot, even though it was difficult to do so, as he was lying down on his side.

“What does Mrs. Paige have to do with anything?” Newt asked, smiling slightly at the mention of the rector of the hospital.

“I dunno. You tell me.” He teased.

“Shut up, you loser. Let’s go get breakfast.” The other boy said, standing up in one motion before he could hesitate and stay in bed for any longer, because he knew if he stayed in bed, he would never want to get up, and he would just lie around mourning all day. And he couldn’t have that.

\--

They had pancakes for breakfast, and Newt managed to eat almost all his plate. The rest, he gave to Minho, because –“No, Newt!! You can’t just waste pancakes! They are _pancakes._ ”-

After that, they spent the day walking through the garden, speaking about unnecessary stuff, like how it was legal to have llamas in your house, or the pros and cons of having real food as props in movies and an emergency plan in case a bird got into your house on accident. Nothing truly interesting. They were just distracting themselves.

After lunchtime, they decided to go back to Thomas and Newt’s room. They chatted for a few minutes, until Minho noticed the guitar sitting at the feet of Newt’s bed, looking sad and lonely. Truth was Newt had just brought it, and hadn’t touched it in the weeks he had been there. He sighed when his friend mentioned it.

“Play something!” The dark-haired boy said, jumping up from the bed in excitement. Newt wasn’t really up to playing right now, really. But he would do it, anyways. For Minho.

“I will if you pass it to me.” Newt answered, stretching out his arm, ready to receive the instrument. Minho took it and placed it on his hand, looking all happy as he sat on the bed, looking at the blond in expectation.

Newt played a few random accords, not sure of what he should play. It was always better to play something you felt, he knew that. But he wasn’t feeling anything precise at the moment. So he just settled on the last song he had learnt, one that described his feelings perfectly. Not the few and occasional positive ones, the poisonous ones. The ones that had been slowly killing him the last months. The ones that were present most of the time. The ones that had taken over his heart and refused to leave it. The ones that had become part of him without his consent. So he started playing. [Hey! If you listen to Blindsided-Bon Iver while you read the experience will be better <3 You can continue reading now]. Slowly. Feeling every note, every accord, feeling it beat along with his heart, feeling something twist in his gut, something that made him feel a bit alive. Then, he started singing really quietly. He had never liked his singing, though everyone else did. He wasn’t really sure why. But now, no one likes what they do themselves, do they? They just like other things, other people. They never appreciate themselves. Maybe that’s one of the most beautiful things about people like him. Their humility. They will always praise everyone but themselves. They will always love everyone but themselves. That was most likely their biggest defect, too. The main cause of their suffering.

In that moment, he felt free, but trapped in his own body at the same time. He was free inside his head, except he wasn’t, his illness taking over every feeling, every thought, every decision and word, every day of his life. He felt like screaming, but, instead of doing so, he let it all out through the song.

He looked at Thomas when he sang the question, asking himself why the boy in front of him cared about him. Asking himself if he really cared about him. He felt something twist in his heart. Something that made him look away. He wasn’t sure how Thomas felt for him. He didn’t know what he felt for the boy, actually. He felt a little bit better when he was with the brunette, but he wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he needy? Was he weak? Something told him he wasn’t, but he willed himself to block it all away, just keeping up the song.

He just kept it up like he could, gracing his fingers across the chords, moving on their own as he thought and drowned himself in everything he felt. He wasn’t even completely aware when the song came to an end, only coming to reality when soft, slow claps were heard.

He looked up, feeling completely distracted and detached from reality. There were smiles on his friends’ faces, which made him smile back.

“Thanks.” Thomas said whole-heartedly and Minho nodded slightly. The door of the room creaked when Newt was about to answer, though, revealing the face of a nurse he had never talked to before.

“Um… Isaac, there’s someone here to see you.” She said softly, smiling as gently as she could.

“Yeah?” He answered, forcing himself not to grimace nor frown at being called by his name. “Who?” He asked, confusion rising in him. His mom was going to spend the day with his step-dad and Jake. They had had plans since before Newt got into the hospital, so it wasn’t as if it could be her.

“Your dad.”

“My _dad?_ ”

“Yeah. Um... George Newton, he said.” She answered. And, wow. Who would’ve though?

He was about to see his father again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I'm a little bit insecure about this chapter like!???!?!!?!?!!?  
> I feel like I'm about to explode, omg.  
> Hope you liked it, though. Maybe it's just me being paranoid and silly and hating my own writing style, i dunno.  
> ily all  
> XoxoXooX


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!!  
> Change of plans! I expected to update tomorrow, or the day after that, but, SURPRISE!! I managed to finish the chapter tonight!  
> Love you!!  
> <3

He hadn’t seen his father since the break-up. Actually, he had resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to see him again. He thought he hadn’t kept in touch with his mom, point where he had been clearly wrong.

He didn’t want to see his father. He was afraid of what would happen if he saw him like that. Would he be disappointed? Sad? The idea of finding out wasn’t precisely appealing, and probably never would.

He sighed before opening the door, forcing the nervousness and unpleasant feelings to drown in his belly.

When he entered the room, he was met by a bear hug that felt like the ones that swam around in his memory, and the now unfamiliar scent, like cinnamon and a simply warm smell.

“Hi, dad.” He said in a quiet, somehow accidental monotonous voice.

“Oh, God. Isaac, your mom told me what happened, and I came as soon as I could.” His dad answered, taking a deep breath and holding him tightly.

“Don’t call me Isaac.” Was his mere response, as he thought over what his father had just said, feeling anger rise up in his chest. . His mom had told him. His dad had known where his mom and him had been living all the time.

“She told you.” Newt repeated, frowning and pushing away from the hug, staring up at his dad, trying his best to communicate just how upset he was with the whole thing; his dad looked confused, and nodded. “So you were in touch. You had been in touch this whole time.” The boy cleared up, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah. We had each other’s numbers, just in case.” His father answered softly, confused expression still plastered on his face, which made Newt even angrier.

“You knew where we were living, where you could find us, and you didn’t try to contact me _once._ I didn’t see you, for _four years._ Four bloody years thinking I would never see you again. You were gone, for all I knew. And I thought I would never be able to see you again. Ever. And you let it happen. You let me think that, and crumble to pieces. How could you?” He said, rising up his volume with every word he said, until he was yelling. Tears started streaming down his face.  He loved his dad, and he had deliberately decided not to contact him through his mom. He loved his dad, but he didn’t love Newt as much, which was probably why it hurt so damn much.

“Isaac, son-“ The man started, but got interrupted by him.

“I told you not to call me that!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, which made a nurse rush in the room in case something serious had happened. “Just go.” Newt said firmly, although the tears were still streaming down his face and making his whole form shiver. He turned around and walked down the hallway, wiping the tears off of his face with the back of his hand, which was completely useless, as more tears followed the ones he had just cleaned, as a wave of sobs attacked his chest.

And he started running. He ran towards his room, just wanting to forget about the whole thing. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to cry, he wanted to die, he wanted to stop feeling. He wanted to fly away, to go far from that place. But he couldn’t do any of those things, so he just ran to his room, longing to be with the only person who could probably make him forget. He needed his friends.

He needed Thomas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was short...  
> Hope you enjoyed it!!  
> Feel free to comment, make suggestions, talk to me, whatever. I'll love it.  
> ily, guys  
> xoxoO


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!! Hope you like it!  
> <3

He entered the room suddenly, making both boys look up. It evidently took them a few seconds to process what was happening, and react in any way. Minho stood up immediately, followed by Thomas, both of them rushing over to him.

Thomas put his hands at both sides of his head, looking at him in the eyes.

“Newt, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, pulling his hands away as Minho asked something.

“Was it your dad?” He asked seriously, looking at the crying boy, who nodded softly, before Thomas started searching him for any injuries, putting special attention to his arms, fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the blond.

“I didn’t do _anything,_ Thomas.” He snapped, pulling his arm away harshly and looking at the brunet in the eyes, feeling pangs of annoyment run through him, but he got distracted by Minho moving to the door.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, looking confused.

“I’m gonna find that motherfucker and break his nose, too.” Minho answered, and Newt held his hand out.

“No, Minho. He’s already gone, and-“Newt started calmly, but Minho was already out the door, not listening to anything at the moment.

Newt sighed. He had stopped crying at some point, but now he just started again, everything that had happened rushing back to his mind, all along with what had just happened. Thomas thought he might’ve hurt himself. It felt twice as awful, because it was an actually realistic thought in their situation. He felt a sob going through his throat, and getting out a little choked. He kept crying. He didn’t want anything. All he felt in that moment was suffering, and he felt unreal. He felt as If he was floating, and his limbs didn’t feel strong enough. It was terrible.

But then, he felt arms around him, and it stopped feeling so bad. They took some of the pain away, they sucked some of the sadness out of him, letting him breath for a few seconds, just like when you’re drowning in the middle of a wave, confusion and water all around you, and suddenly you find the surface and breathe again. And he let himself feel that air, and take in as much as he could.

He buried his face in Thomas’ neck, bringing himself to hug back and feeling the arms around him tighten slightly. They hugged each other for some time, Newt wasn’t really sure how long they stood there, just supporting each other, calming the other down. At some point, he took notice of the fact that Thomas was crying too. Newt didn’t know why he was crying, but he didn’t want him to cry. Thomas was happy, and Thomas was a light in his life, and he didn’t want Thomas to feel sad. He wanted Thomas to have the world, and feel good. He wanted to make Thomas happy.

He pulled away slightly, enough for him to look at the brunet in the eye, and received a watery smile from him. Newt raised a hand to Thomas’ hair, caressing his cheek slightly with his thumb. He looked down at his lips, and then back at his eyes, silently asking for permission; Thomas nodded really lightly, and Newt pressed a soft kiss to his lips, to which he immediately responded.

“Thank you.” Newt breathed out after they pulled back.

“What for?” Thomas whispered.

“For caring, and giving me a reason to try.” He answered.

“Then, thank you too.” The brunet said.

“Why?” Newt asked.

“For trying.” Thomas gave the answer with so much honesty in it that it made Newt’s heart clench in a, for once, pleasant way.

After that, they laid on the bed, face to face, caressing each other with butterfly touches and ever-so-slight smiles on their faces, the quick touches and occasional brush of hands lulling them to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that a sickening amount of fluff or nah?  
> Hope you like it, guys!! Lots of kitties [puppies for those not wanting cats] and cookies for you all!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!! Here's the 12th chapter! Hope you like it xoxo

When Newt woke up and looked at the clock, taking a few seconds to get his mind to process what his eyes were watching. Four in the morning. He sighed.

Thomas started squirming and his breathing became irregular, throwing his limbs around, starting to mumble. Newt sat up put a hand on his arm, firm enough to stop it from hitting him in the face.

“Thomas. Hey, wake up.” He said, shaking him gently. “Tommy, wake up.”

Thomas shot his eyes open and turned to look at Newt, his face washing with relief.

“You were having a nightmare.” Newt mentioned matter-of-factly.

“I know.” The brunet answered, making the other boy feel stupid for a second, before he got distracted by the other’s voice “It was the same as last time, and I just-“ he said, swallowing hard after the words got stuck in his throat

“What is it?” Newt asked gently, not wanting to be pushy, but not wanting Thomas to drown in his thoughts and feelings either, because he knew the consequences of over thinking and refraining yourself from expressing how you feel. He knew better than he would like to.

“I need to know it wasn’t real.” Thomas said, looking at him with watery eyes and lifting a hand up to his face, slowly brushing his fingers down the blond’s neck, gently reaching for the skin beneath his shirt, going directly for his right shoulder, and widening his eyes slightly when he felt the bumpy scar right there.

“What is it?” Newt asked again, noticing the slight panic and shock in Thomas’ eyes.

“How did you get that scar?” he asked, surprisingly calm.

“I don’t really know. It’s just been there for a few years, but I don’t remember how, exactly, I got it, which is weird, since it is pretty nasty.” Newt answered, looking at where the brunet’s hand was slowly retrieving. “Why?” he decided to ask, lying back down next to Thomas and looking at him.

“It’s just-“ He looked unconfident, nervous “in my dreams, you got it from some kind of mechanic monsters.” Thomas said, gesturing slightly with his hands.

Newt heard a foggy whisper at the back of his mind, but ignored it, and it quickly went away.

“What are your dreams about, exactly? “ He asked, looking at the other boy with a slight smile on his face. Thomas smiled back.

“They are really crazy, actually.” He answered “We’re like, trapped in the middle these giant maze, and we live there, and there are giant doors leading to the giant maze, and they close at night, because there’s these monsters I told you about, and they want to kill us. Everything’s pretty weird.”

Newt chuckled slightly at how Thomas used his hands while saying ‘giant’.

“ _Sounds_ pretty weird.” Was all he answered, before he added a second thought “So I’m in there, too?” He asked and the brunet nodded “Am I cool?”

“You’re such a nerd.” Thomas answered, rolling his eyes.

“Right now, or in the dreams?”

“Both. Except you’re nicer in the dreams.” The brunet teased and Newt punched him playfully on the arm.

“Everything’s better in dreams, Tommy.” He answered, closing his eyes. It was true. Nothing was completely good in real life. Everything was more complicated, more confusing, more painful.

“Not necessarily.” Thomas answered in what was almost a whisper.

Newt only hummed in answer, already half asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that okay? Imma update soon, fear not.  
> Comments are overly appreciated, and will make me happy, and they are like emotional treats, and I thank beforehand to anyone that leaves any.  
> ILY ALL. ALL OF YOU. ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE.  
> <3  
> Have a nice day.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellz yeah. Sleep deprivation and boredom equals two chapters in one night. Hell yeah, hell yeah.  
> [Bit of drama in this one. Beware.]  
> [[Gosh, it is not decent for me to update two times in one night, is it? I'm so sorry]]

The next morning, when they found Minho at breakfast, he was smirking at them in a suggestive, knowing way.

“What?” Thomas asked, looking confused at how the boy was acting.

“Nothing.” Minho answered, looking down at his food and trying to hide the fact that his smile widened.

“No, no. That’s clearly something, and you have to tell me or I won’t sleep.” The brunet spoke again.

“It’s just, you know. Last night, I went back to your room so we could come for dinner, but you two were already asleep and cuddling, so I decided not to disturb you.” He said, giving them a toothy grin that was something between mocking and mischievous “I knew you two had a thing, and now Gally owes me five bucks.” He added, making both boys blush horribly. Minho settled for laughing at both of them.

\--

Days went on, and nothing special happened at all, apart from the fact that there were two new patients, both girls. Newt had only met one of them. Her name was Brenda, and she was pretty nice. He had just seen the other one from afar, but he had heard she was cool, too.

Then, after almost a month, his mom came to visit him. It was just her, which was pretty odd, but Newt did not comment on it, not wanting to upset her. If something had happened, she would tell him.

He greeted her with a smile and a hug. The smile didn’t feel so fake this time, and he felt really grateful for that. Maybe it was working. Maybe he was getting better, step by step.

“My dad came.” He shot immediately after they were done saying hello. His mom turned serious.

“I know.” She answered “He called me, and told me what happened.” 

Newt looked away, feeling a knot in his stomach.

“But Newt, you have to understand. This is not your dad’s fault. I told him I needed time, and he respected that. That doesn’t mean he didn’t want to see you, that doesn’t mean he blames you for anything. It’s not his fault, it’s not yours, and neither is mine. The only person blaming you for the whole thing is yourself, and you should stop doing that, darling, because we all love you unconditionally, and you’re the only one who doesn’t think so. And it is destroying you.” She said quietly, caressing his hair and looking at him with a sad, yet sincere smile. And he cracked, right there and then. He started crying, and he tried to stop himself. He really tried.

His mom hugged him tightly, whispering reassuring things in his ear and rubbing circles on his back, and he just cried, and he felt safe in his mother’s arms. When he took control of himself again, he was filled with determination. A determination he hadn’t had inside him in a long time. The one that burned your insides with nervousness and a hundred flowing waves of emotion, each of them rushing too quickly through your body for you to even try and identify them. But it was there, like a burning fire in his chest, and it wouldn’t get ripped from him.

“Mom, I have to- tell you something.” He said, looking at her, and she nodded.

“Anything.” She answered, and Newt told her. He told her absolutely everything. He told her about his step-father, and Jake. He told her everything he could remember, and once he had started, he wouldn’t stop. _Couldn’t_ stop. It was necessary. He needed to tell her. And he told her how Jake mocked him, making him feel worthless, and he told her how Harry ignored him, making him feel completely alone, and he told her about the time Jake’s friend kissed him, and he told her how Jake always called him weak and pathetic until he started believing it himself, and he told her Minho’s reasons to punch him the last time she had visited, and she asked why. Why had he waited so long to tell her? Why had he endured all of that suffering? Why had he stayed silent?

“I wanted you to be happy.” He answered, his voice going quiet. And there was a pause. His mom was crying, and she hugged him again.

“When are you going to understand? You are my priority, and I can’t be happy if you are suffering, darling.” She whispered into his hair. They stayed like that for a few minutes, and then talked about light and unimportant stuff. About movies that had come out that month and would be cool to watch together, and his mom asked him about his friends. He talked a bit about both Minho and Thomas, and he told her about Brenda, and Gally, and some other guys he had met.

She had to leave, eventually, of course, when visit hours were over. They said goodbye, and Newt went to clean his face before he went to find his friends. He didn’t know whether to tell them or not what he had done. He found Thomas in their room. He wasn’t doing anything specifically interesting. He was just sitting there, staring into space.

“Planning how to steal the moon?” He asked, startling Thomas out of his daze. The brunet smiled.

“Well, of course.” He answered and chuckled.

“Where is Minho?”

“He went with Brenda to do something, and they left me here, on my own, suffering, lonely… and… on my own.” Thomas said dramatically, but ran out of ideas and ruined it, making Newt chuckle.

“Didn’t they invite you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“They did, but I was too lazy to go.” The boy answered, making the blond roll his eyes.

“You are like a dumb baby.” Newt said “Let’s just go walk around the building, come on.” He said, making the brunet stand up. He didn’t want to stay there all day. It would probably make him feel bored and useless and lazy, and he didn’t want that.

So Thomas and him went to the library, Newt thinking a vague ‘ _I’ll tell them later’_ , before he forgot completely and just let himself get distracted from his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked my half asleep, three litres of coffee induced writing.  
> [Bit of drama more like regular drama]  
> [[Save the drama for your llama, celeste- God dammit]]  
> Ily all.  
> (I know this sucks. it's like four or five in the morning and i woke up at eight am today, okay? I have a valid excuse.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!!  
> It is a bit silly, but I needed it to continue the story, I'm so sorry.  
> Still, hope you like it!  
> xoxo

Chapter 14

Time kept passing by, and Alby was getting released. They were all glad and happy for him, and Newt would never have told this to anyone, but that made him feel like happiness was something tangible. He felt there was something to live for, and, for the first time in years, he felt capable of flying without having to hurt himself on the way.

His mom filed in for a divorce, and was halfway through it. She visited him a lot, and they talked. He took his medicine every day, never skipped them. Not anymore.

Brenda and Teresa, the other girl that had arrived, became really close friends of his, as well as Thomas’ and Minho’s.

He also got to a point in which he cared about his therapist. He talked to him, and he was grateful for that.

Life was going fine, except for one thing. Thomas’ nightmares; they were a bit more frequent now, even though Thomas took his medicines every day.

There were nights when they would barely sleep. Thomas would tell him about the dream, and Newt would try his best to understand and comfort him. Tonight was one of those nights.

They were lying down, Thomas with his eyes closed, recalling every part of the nightmare vividly. Newt was just looking at him, a bit of sadness in his eyes.

“And then the monsters, the ones I’ve told you about, almost caught Minho, and I just felt so… impotent.” Thomas was saying and he made a pause, rubbing his still closed eyes. Then, Newt heard it. A voice at the back of his head, whispering a word that should not sound so familiar.

“Grievers.” He murmured, staring into space and barely registering how Thomas brusquely took his hands away from his now wide eyes to look at Newt.

“What?” He said.

“The monsters. We called ‘em Grievers.” The blond insisted, looking intently at Thomas, who widened his eyes even more, thing the other boy had thought impossible.

“But I- I’ve never told you that.” Thomas whispered with a perplexed expression on his face.

“I- I know.”

“What else do you rem- know?” The brunet asked, moving clumsily to stare more directly at Newt’s face.

“Nothing, I just- that just popped in my head. I don’t know anything.” He answered, getting really confused with the whole situation.

“Would it be possible?” Asked Thomas, looking relieved, and excited, and worried, all at the same time.

“What?” Newt asked back, thinking he’d missed part of their conversation.

“Maybe it isn’t a delusion. Maybe the nightmares are memories.” The boy said, his eyes shining with that new thought “You know, the scar on your shoulder, the medicines not working, and everything.” He added, clearly trying to sound less thrilled at the thought.

Newt frowned. It wasn’t a completely irrational idea, which was probably the most terrifying thing in the whole situation.

“I don’t know.” He answered, forcing himself to fell uncertainty in an attempt to make the whole thing a bit less dreadful. The rush of confusion and ideas, and thoughts, and the slight fluttery tinge in the pit of his stomach was already fading, slowly giving way to a warm fuzziness of sleep. “But I’ll try to find out, I promise.” He said, letting himself get enveloped in that almost abnormally sudden numbness.

When he was barely conscious, he heard Thomas mutter something he couldn’t quite process or figure.

_“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are HIGHLY APRECIATED.  
> They make me squeal, and blush, and cry, and laugh, and I love it that you take the time to write them. It makes me love you guys more than I already do!!  
> Kisses and cookies for you all.  
> <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!! I AM SO SORRY YOU HAD TO WAIT SO LONG!!!!!!!  
> I had stuff to do, busy couple of days, accompanied by a writer's block and the fact that I just basically sabbotaged myself. I'm so sorry, really. I'm sorry you had to suffer because of my complete lack of attention and cleverness.  
> But I fixed everything, so there will be more updates this month, hopefully.  
> Thanks and sorry!!  
> xoxoxoxo

Chapter 15

He wouldn’t have expected it, but it took quite a lot of nerve to finally ask his mom. She was talking about her work, and, when her story came to an end, he let himself open his mouth before he had time to stop himself and regret everything.

“Hey, mom?”

“Mmh?” She hummed, looking at him.

“I was wondering… how did I get that scar on my shoulder?” He asked, frowning a bit as he looked at her, almost missing the slight panic in her eyes before she sighed and rubbed her temples tiredly, making him feel a wave of guilt and disappointment in himself that were, fortunately, ignored as his mother spoke and curiosity overcome them.

“Listen, darling.”She started, sounding extremely serious about the whole thing “There are some things I should tell you…” she made a pause and Newt straightened and looked at her “but I’m not really sure you are ready. I’m not sure if _I_ am ready.” She said, looking expectantly at her son, who visibly slouched and furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Why?” He asked.

“It’s really very… heavy. Upsetting.” She was at loss of words. She was never at loss of words. That wasn’t usual in her, she was always certain, always had answers. That’s why he didn’t insist, why he didn’t push further. 

So he nodded. And his mom smiled.

“Let’s make a deal here, okay?” She said happily and he straightened again, waiting to listen to her proposal “When you get out of here I’ll tell you. The moment you step through that door, I will tell you everything, anything you want to know.” She said and he forced himself to smile slightly and nod again.

After that, she kept talking as if the conversation they just had hadn’t just happened.

\--

When his mom was just about to leave, she gave him a hug and said a few words to him that shouldn’t make him feel the dread or the guilt they made him feel.

“Give your father a second chance, okay?” She said softly and he just nodded, feeling dumbfounded at the whole concept of seeing his dad again. He knew what had happened the other day had just been a big misunderstanding and his illness taking toll of his actions and thoughts, but the day was still sealed to his mind and made his heart fall.

And with that she left, and Newt returned to his room.

He walked around, dwelling on his thoughts. He didn’t know if he should tell Thomas there was actually something up, or not. Would it help? Would it hurt? Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference at all. Newt didn’t know, and felt frustrated at his own uncertainty. He sighed out loud and closed his eyes, leaning on a wall. He sighed again and opened them, looking down at his own shoes before he heard a voice.

“Newt?” He looked up and saw Brenda standing there with a kind and slightly questioning smile. “Are you okay?” she asked and Newt nodded, returning the smile.

“Yeah, just thinking.” He answered and she tilts her head.

“About what?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Nah. Nothing. Just something I have to do tomorrow.” He said and she didn’t pressure, just nodded and smiled again.

“Hey, I was actually going to Minho’s room, wanna walk with me?” She asked excitedly and Newt agreed, and they started walking and talking. She was saying something about a chinchilla farm his grandfather had when they reached Newt’s door and she smiled and kissed his cheek before continuing her path and leaving Newt there. He smiled to himself. He really liked Brenda. She was really warm and fuzzy and nice.

He sighed. He’d tell Thomas, he decided.

But then he entered the room, and Thomas looked so happy and normal, and something inside him didn’t let him speak when he was about to tell him what he’d found out. So he changed his mind.

He wouldn’t tell him. Just not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS TO YOU ALL FOR STILL TAKING ALL OF MY SHIT AND READING THIS LITTLE STORY.  
> ILY ALL.  
> <3  
> *Extra puppies and hot chocolate and Thomas Sangster*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, cuties!!!!  
> Omg, ily all so much, you can't even imagine!!  
> Enjoy!! <3

He had been suffocating under the weight of the same thoughts for two days straight, the same thoughts, over and over, swirling through his head. Questions, answers, comments, insecurities, insults, over and over. He sighed for the thousandth time in the last forty-eight hours.

“You did it again.” Thomas’ voice sounded playful, bringing him back from his dreadful, anxiety induced thinking.

“Sorry.” The blond answered, offering a half-hearted smile, which came out a bit lopsided and made the brunet’s expression soften in worry.

“Are you okay?” He asked, making Newt sigh again. “Is something bothering you? Can I help?” He added, holding the other’s hand in an attempt to communicate his support further.

And it was then, staring into Thomas’ sincere eyes and soft smile, that he made a decision, feeling the courage rise in his chest, just like that time he decided to tell his mom about her husband. He felt that rush, that intensity, feeling the words accumulate in his throat before he managed to get them fall out of his mouth, flowing like a river. He took a breath and opened his mouth, ready to speak, when he got interrupted by the dorm’s door squeaking open, almost mockingly.

He felt a pang of frustration, turning around brusquely to see a nurse there.

“Isaac, your father came to visit you.” He said, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he looked at both teens. Newt felt anxiety creep back into his system, running through his veins like a sugar rush.

He got up and followed the nurse, looking back at Thomas one last time before leaving the room, silently promising to talk when he got back, a promise he wasn’t entirely sure he would keep.

\--

He got enveloped in a big hug the moment he entered the room his dad was in, and, this time, it didn’t make him feel so bitter.

“Hi, dad.” He managed to smile at him convincingly, despite that tinge of anger at the back of his throat.

“Hey Isaac.” His dad answered, smiling softly. He felt irritation rise in his belly at the name.

“Newt.” He bit out as non-aggressively as he could, which ripped an interrogatory noise from his dad. “I go by Newt now, not Isaac.” He clarified, managing to calm himself down.

“Oh, sorry. So, how are you?” His dad asked a bit awkwardly, but still evidently excited about the second chance, or whatever this was.

“Fine, I guess…” Newt answered, waiting a bit before he remembered what was socially correct and added, “You?”

His dad was silent a few seconds before he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Newt felt his heart drop. Was he mad? Had he disappointed him? He felt guilt and frustration rise in his chest. He hadn’t felt this in a while; at least, it hadn’t been so strong in the past few days, which he should probably thank the medicine and therapy for, but he obviously wouldn’t. Not at the moment, at least.

  “Listen, Newt.” He said and the boy felt his own regret punching him in the gut, “I’m really sorry. In those years, I swear, I would’ve given anything to see you. I wished, more than anything… But I promised your mom time alone, and I needed to respect that. And I’m not asking you to forgive me, but try to understand. I love you, okay? And you need to fight this. You’re strong, and I’ll help you as much as I can, but you need to beat this illness, and come back to us.” He was crying by the end of it. He was able to see his dad, the one he remembered, the one who took him to the park when he was little, and the one who taught him which brand of paint was best, and the one who used to take him to a small café near the center until the divorce, and the one who used funny glasses when he read, and the one who tried to invent recipes whenever he cooked, and the one who was a part of a happy family.

And they hugged each other, and a part of Newt told him this was getting a bit repetitive with each visit, but he chose to ignore it and take in the moment, keep it in his box of things he’d miss, because yes.

He had really missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is reaching it's end, so...  
> I AM SO EXCITED. This would be my first officially finished story, and i need to celebrate that.  
> I'm thinking about five more chapters or something, maybe.  
> I LOVE YOU ALL. I HOPE YOU WILL STAY WITH ME ;W;  
> ILY  
> xoxoXOoxoOX


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! Yay!!  
> It is pretty much uneventful. Couldn't do much, sorry. Next chapter will be more interesting, I swear <3

When he got back to his dorm, Thomas was still there, staring blankly at the wall as he sometimes did. Usually when he did it, it was calm, and Newt doubted he was thinking anything at all. This time though, he was clearly thinking, and, by his expression, it couldn’t be anything pretty.

“Did you find out anything?” The brunet asked suddenly, making Newt jump in startle next to the door, where he had been standing, lost in thought.

“What?” Was all he was able to let out, too dumbfounded by the sudden question.

“About the nightmares.” Thomas clarified, and the blond thought of lying for a second, but then Thomas turned to look at him, and there was this thing in his eyes, desperate, and almost _pleading._ And he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t able to lie. Not anymore.

“Not really.” He answered as sincerely as he could, going to sit beside Thomas, who sighed and looked down. “I mean, I found out there’s definitely _something_ to find out, but I don’t know what it is.” He quickly added, trying to make the other boy feel a bit less bad.

“That’s okay.” Thomas said softly, trying to smile at Newt as convincingly as he could, but he failed and quickly added, “I just… I thought, maybe if I knew, then maybe I would be able to get better. To give closure, you know?” He said, looking at Newt and searching some kind of expression in his eyes.

Newt just nodded, somehow knowing how Thomas felt about this, and finding it impossible not to say something to try and make him feel better.

“I’ll do my best. I promise.” He said, taking the other’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers, giving him a soft smile and trying to transmit his support in any way he could. Thomas smiled back and squeezed his hand in silent gratefulness, letting himself fall back on the bed, dragging the blond with him with a chuckle.

“Hey! Rude.” Newt giggled a bit, breaking the momentary silence and making Thomas laugh slightly.

“If we burn, you burn with us.” He quoted, making Newt roll his eyes.

“You’re officially the ultimate dork for making that reference.” He said, and looked at the brunet with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re officially the co-ultimate dork for getting it.” He shot back with a smirk and making them both laugh stupidly like six-year olds who ate too much candy.

When they calmed down, they looked into each other’s eyes for a while, before Thomas’ voice broke the silence.

“What will you do when you get out?” He asked quietly, with a soft expression in his eyes. Newt thought for a few seconds, before he settled on an answer.

“Watch all the movies I missed. And then I would drink all the tea I have home and eat the biggest piece of cake I can get.” He said, changing his position slightly and moving his head to the side, slightly scrunching up his nose in amusement at his own priorities. “You?”

“I will…” Thomas began, raising up a hand and counting with his fingers. “Eat an entire box of cupcakes, and I will go to the animal shelter, and adopt a dog, and I will name it Raspberry.”

“Yeah?” Newt chuckled affectionately.

“Yeah. And it will be the cutest dog ever, you just wait and see. You will want to exchange dogs with me.” He answered playfully.

“I don’t think so. I love Sax too much to do that.”

“Seriously? Your dog’s name is Sax?” Thomas asked in disbelief.

“Shut up. You plan on calling yours like a berry.”

“Well, yeah. At least that’s cute.” He teased and Newt chuckled before he added.

“Maybe. But Aki would miss the dumb nerd, too. So no. I will not exchange dogs with you.” He said, starting to feel sleepy as he nuzzled a pillow.

“Who’s Aki?” Thomas asked, frowning slightly.

“My cat.” He answered, yawning and closing his eyes.

“Wha-? No! That isn’t fair, you can’t have _both._ ” The brunet started complaining.

“Well, watch me.” Newt answered with a smirk.

“No. Now I just feel bad.” Thomas was pouting when the blond opened an eye to look at him.

“Just let me sleep. We’ll arrange the cat thing later.” He said, already half-asleep. Thomas stayed silent and they fell asleep together.

It was the first nightmare-less night they had had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Pretty shitty.  
> Sorreh...  
> I'll try to fix my mess next chapter, kay? x3  
> Ily all   
> xoxo


End file.
